Unintentional Consequences
by PseudonymousEntity
Summary: Draco Malfoy was minding his own business in his compartment alone when a Gryffindor decided to fall from the sky and make their second trip to Hogwarts a bit more exciting than planned. Or the one where Harry isn't confident in Ron's capabilities to fly the car and makes a jump for it when they fly over the train, a little traumatized, and blurts out his problems to Draco Malfoy.
1. The Choice

*Unintended Consequences*

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 **Unintended Consequences** by **Pseudonymous Entity**

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 **Summary: Draco Malfoy was minding his own business in his compartment alone when a Gryffindor decided to fall from the sky and make their second trip to Hogwarts a bit more exciting than planned. Or the one where Harry isn't confident in Ron's capabilities to fly the car and makes a jump for it when they fly over the train, a little traumatized, and blurts out his problems to Draco Malfoy.**

 **Characters:** Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

 **Warnings:** None really, it isn't long enough for that I think

 **AN:** A scene that's been playing in my mind for a while. I have a notebook full of ideas for one shots and stories and this one just kept coming to mind. One Shot for now. I am working on Friend or Foe, Cake By the Ocean and Adventures in Magic right now, so I can't say how quickly I could get to this story if you lot do decide you would like to see more, but I will do my best.

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

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 _"You can be the outcast or the backlash of somebody's lack of love, or you can start speaking up_

 _Kept on the inside with no sunlight sometimes the shadow wins_

 _I wonder would happen if you say what you wanna say and let the words fall out honestly_

 _...maybe there's a way out of the cage where you live."_

 **-Brave**

* * *

Draco Malfoy walked slowly, calmly toward the Hogwarts express. His expensive trunk floated in the air behind him, pulled by a small rope he'd attached to it. There were many students finding their friends that they couldn't be bothered to visit over the summer, to gush about all the superfluous things that had changed in their absences. Some were taller, some had tanned, some had gained romantic interests or gone on exciting holidays. None of _that_ was of interest to him of course.

Pale gray eyes darted along the corridor. He chose a carriage toward the back of the train. He would be of the first to get off the train when they arrived at the Hogsmeade station, and Crabbe and Goyle would be less likely to search him out. They always found compartments closest to the front. Lazy, the both of them. Even if it did work in his favour just now. He entered the compartment that would be his for this ride. A soft sigh escaped him. Straightening his back -Malfoys didn't waste time feeling sorry for themselves!- he approached a seat and sat. It was along the windows rather than the sides, which he preferred. He didn't much like being unable to see outside for long. It was something that had irritated his tutors when he was younger, the especially spiteful ones would select rooms that had no windows at all just watch him squirm.

Or so Draco thought.

Eventually, the train began moving and the sound in the hall quieted as students grouped together and did whatever it was the rest of them did on the train. Draco chose to stare out the window and enjoy the solitude while it lasted.

Sometime later Draco was drawn from his thoughts by what sounded like a roar. Draco squinted his eyes and angled his head to look out the sides of his window. What on earth could that be? Suddenly a large metal _thing_ roared passed his window. Startled Draco stumbled away from his window seat with a small yell. A suspicious thud then came from the hall. Draco glanced between the window, which was now void of any strange metal beasts, and the hall. Curiosity won out. Cautiously, Draco opened his door and stepped out. A small thud. Draco tilted his head up. The roof? A hatch in the ceiling slid open and a trunk fell to the floor followed by a body.

Draco fell back against the door of his compartment, hand pressed to his chest. It was Potter!

"Are you out of your bloody mind?" He demanded. What was the Gryffindor idiot thinking being on the roof of all places? He could have fallen off and died.

Annoyed he wasn't getting any attention from the-boy-who'd-frightened-him-nearly-to-death Draco stepped forward and pulled him to his feet. He opened his mouth to give him a good dressing down, obviously, he needed someone to tell him when he was stupid and neither the Weasel or Granger was doing so, and was promptly cut off by the boy grabbing him by the shoulders and giving him a shake.

"House Elf," Potter rambled. "House Elf...my house...muggles...punished...he can't fly it, he _can't_...might have starved...house elf!"

Draco blinked. He glanced side to side and was glad to see there was no audience to Potter's mental breakdown. Making a decision he pushed the door behind him open and dragged the smaller wizard in with him, shutting the door after them. Draco tried to pull Potter's hands from his robes but the inky haired boy was connected to him like he had claws. Well, now what?

"Potter. Potter," Draco repeated, waving a hand in the other's face. "Would you please explain what has caused you to go insane so I might inform the authorities when I have you committed?" He couldn't help it really. Snark and sarcasm were his defense mechanisms and he was quite uncomfortable at the present moment and rather alarmed.

Green eyes blinked. "I...I live with muggles. My aunt and her husband and a cousin. House elf. House..."

"Yes a house elf, so you've said. I'm guessing it wasn't yours?" Draco interrupted, hoping to move the story along.

Potter shook his head. "No my relatives would never have one of those things around. They hate anything abnormal and a house elf certainly is. For them I mean. It told me not to go back to Hogwarts and when I wouldn't it went down the stairs. _Down the stairs_ Draco!"

Draco nodded as if he understood. "Yes, downstairs. Wretched thing. What next?"

"They had guests over. Important ones for my uncle's job. The bloody house elf went invisible and dumped pudding on the wife in front of everyone! I didn't leave my room for weeks. Soup...soup...the worst soup..." Potter lost his moment of clarity and seemed about to have another fit.

"Right, I can handle this," Draco assured him. "Dobby!" He called out.

A Malfoy house elf popped into the cabin. Its ridiculous ball-like eyes widened even more upon the sight of Draco and his companion, Draco resisted rolling his own. "Dobby I want you to keep uninvited house elves from bothering Potter at his residence. Do you understand?" The elf ignored Draco in favour of throwing himself at Potter's robes and sobbing. Potter didn't take this well, backing up quickly. It did little to dislodge the creature from his robes.

"Dobby is sorry!"

The blonde Slytherin pressed his fingertips to his temples. "Explain yourself elf."

"It was Dobby. Dobby is a naughty elf." It wailed from Potter's feet.

Said wizard looked close to passing out, his face paler than usual. Draco frowned. Was he frightened? He tilted his head and considered. He did suspect Potter wasn't too fond of tactile contact with others if the awkward aborted movements to escape when his housemates hugged him at the end of year celebration feast were anything to go by. Maybe he was claustrophobic?

"Dobby, release him. Can't you see you're overwhelming him? Give him personal space you barmy thing." Dobby let go of Potter reluctantly.

Frowning again, Draco walked to the window and slid it open. Perhaps the air would help. He ended up having to pull the Gryffindor over to the window and push him into the seat. "Breathe." He commanded. Draco flicked his wand at the door to lock it. _No one_ needed to walk in on this odd scenario. "Return home elf. I'll be dealing with you another time."

With an annoying squeak, the elf popped away.

Draco watched the Gryffindor, waiting patiently for him to calm down. He loathed to release him to his natural habitat of red and gold before he was coherent enough to make it clear _Draco_ had _nothing_ to do with any of it. Standing there he surveyed the other wizard, looking at his clothing and noting his weight. Was he really that thin or did the clothes -and they were much too big for him- only make it seem so? Everyone knew Harry lived with muggles, and Draco had grown up hearing how important it was to avoid them. How dangerous they could be. Could some of the rambling Potter made have some basis in fact? He did mention something about being punished.

...and he did look sort of small and pathetic just now.

He gave a mental shrug and removed his outer robes, folding them neatly and setting them on an empty seat. He took his beside Potter. The pouch at Draco's belt was untied, opened and turned over to empty a shrunken emergency kit into his palm. It grew to its rightful size after three seconds. His long fingers -naturally pale, unlike Potter!- flipped open the clasps and lifted the lid. Draco glanced over at Potter to find him fixated on the ceiling.

Draco tapped his shoulder and held out a small blue vial. "Calming Draught. Sip it a bit, it'll help."

Only a moment of hesitation that Draco thought was more due to not entirely having his wits collected than anything else, and Potter took it and drank. The unwarranted trust was surprising. He hadn't even smelt it to see if it indeed was what Draco said it was. He could have been trying to poison him. Gryffindors. Honestly.

"I don't suppose you want to share why you fell from the roof?" Draco asked dryly. He kept any sharpness or annoyance from his voice, he only had the one calming draught after all.

Potter turned to him with narrowed eyes. "Don't ever believe a thing Ron tells you. Sure he _says_ he can fly a car but he can't. It's a lie!"

"Are you..." Draco took a breath keep himself calm. "Are you telling me that that...that contraption was the two of you?"

"Actually," Said Potter. "I jumped out when I saw we were over the train. Thought I might have a better chance of surviving." He paused. "I do hope Ron doesn't die."

Draco left Potter to ponder the fate of his favourite red headed idiot, opening the door to their compartment. The trunk was still there. It had to be Potter's, it was too nice to be The Weasel's. Draco levitated it and brought it into the compartment. The two of them got it into the luggage rack together and Draco could report that it did _not_ have featherlight charms. As Potter reclaimed his seat Draco considered the basket that lay inside his own trunk.

He brought it down with him and sat beside Potter. He looked down at the basket and then over at Potter who, yes, did look thin. Feeling awkward Draco cleared his throat. "I've got a care package. Mother always sends one." He removed the lid. "It's not much but you can have some if you like. I've got tea cakes and that container over there has punch. There are cooling charms so it's nice and cold. Oh and strawberries as well."

Potter leaned over to peer in the basket. "That's a lot of strawberries." He noted.

Draco coughed and glanced away. "I like strawberries."

"I can see that."

They spent the next hour eating strawberries and sitting in an amiable silence.

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 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2017**

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 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An:** There you go. One shot for now, unless you think it deserved more than the one chapter?

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	2. Some Slytherin Advice

*Unintended Consequences*

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 **Unintended Consequences** by **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

 **Summary:** Draco Malfoy was minding his own business in his compartment alone when a Gryffindor decided to fall from the sky and make their second trip to Hogwarts a bit more exciting than planned. Or the one where Harry isn't confident in Ron's capabilities to fly the car and makes a jump for it when they fly over the train, a little traumatized, and blurts out his problems to an unsuspecting Slytherin.

 **Characters:** Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

 **Warnings:** None really, it isn't long enough for that I think

 **AN:** I...did not expect that reaction. I am glad you're fond of the idea, as I myself am. That _is_ why I posted it. I will try to get some chapters in here from time to time, please be patient with me? I have an awful lot of stories to keep up with, and RL is kicking my arse.

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

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"It's been like this from the start...

Stand here, sell this and meet your mark

But the sound of the steel and the crush and the grind

Who am I to decide my life?"

 **-Robot**

* * *

Pale fingers rolled the sweet red fruit held between them idly.

Draco was, in a word, troubled. Troubled in a fashion never before encountered in his young life, Draco was troubled by many things at once that had nothing at all to do with him or his parents. Pale gray eyes darted to the right. There sat Potter with his customary uncombed hair, staring at the red stains on his fingertips as if they were precious. This was only a small portion of what troubled Draco about his compartment mate. Being troubled from time to time was itself nothing new to Draco. With a father like Lucius, and a family name like Malfoy, one was bound to come across trouble from time to time. He even understood when others had similar troubles, if not quite the same. Malfoy troubles were unique in most instances, after all.

But troubles like this. Well, even a respectable and well-educated pureblood might find themselves at a loss for which specific course of action -if any- they ought to make to correct the troubles. Let alone a preteen.

First things first perhaps. Draco raised his hand to pop the last strawberry into his mouth and then, quite suddenly, his fingers changed course. Without looking, not quite able to make himself do so, he held it out in his companion's general direction and cleared his throat. He knew Potter heard him and that his large green eyes were staring at it.

Trying ever so hard not to roll his eyes Draco waved it a bit. "Go on then. Take it."

Deciding Draco wasn't pretending to offer food -this another troubling thing Draco needed to address- Potter took it. Daring to turn his head a fraction Draco took in the ridiculously pleased expression on Potter's face. Over a strawberry. He allowed himself to chew his lip briefly, very unMalfoy of course and mulled over his options. Well, there was just no getting around it was there? Personally, he thought, straightening up a bit in his seat, Weasley deserved whatever consequences he got for coming up with such an idiotic idea. Most especially considering he had endangered the firstborn -and only- son of a pureblood family during it. Along with risking the discovery of their world by the muggles. Moronic ginger imbecile.

Here he glanced once more at Potter. The inky headed boy seemed perfectly content to sit there in silence, kicking out his feet every so often, and stare out the window. Much as Draco himself liked to do. Without the unseemly fidgeting.

Potter ought to, halfblood or not, as the firstborn of a pureblooded family take a bit of social responsibility and send a letter along to Weasley's parents about it all. Perhaps their head of house as well so she wasn't surprised by one of her pupils crashing a muggle contraption on the grounds. Speaking of purebloods, the Weasleys, while not doing much in that realm nor honouring it as they should, were in fact purebloods. With that in mind, he knew that technically -if they decided for whatever reason to embrace that part of themselves- Potter could get into trouble by being the last person with Weasley, and abandoning him to boot.

Draco stood to his feet before he could talk himself out of it. "Potter." He said.

He waited patiently for those large green eyes to set on him in question. Potter sat in his over-sized clothes, looking pathetic. If not quite as pathetic as he had earlier. Draco certainly didn't wish to instigate another panic attack. He would need to word the following conversation just right.

Draco cleared his throat. Right. "See here Potter," Draco began. "I had a thought. Perhaps we ought to write to Weasley's father. He might think his...car...has been stolen, and we wouldn't want that. Perhaps as well, while we're doing that, we could jot one out to your head of house as well. Just to let her know."

Potter tilted his head to the side, inky hair swaying like trees in the wind. "Do you think?"

"Yes," Draco confirmed.

The Gryffindor looked about the cabin, at a loss. His small fingers twisting in the hems of too long sleeves. "You see, what it is..."

Draco raised a brow. Potter took a breath in response.

"I may have let out my owl so she could...er...safe herself." He flushed spectacularly.

"Oh." Said Draco. "Good thinking actually. No matter, you can you use my owl." Draco nodded toward the handsome eagle owl sitting on its perch in the opposite corner of the compartment. "Do you need a quill and parchment as well? You know, I'll just go on and fetch you some while I'm already up." Draco walked across the carpet and brought down his trunk before Potter could find something else in that statement to be apologetic about for no good reason. It was a bit sad. And strange. Draco quite hoped Potter would regain some of his 'oomph' at some point. He'd liked arguing with the other boy and getting him riled up. It was sort of fun.

Finding what he was searching for Draco closed and locked his trunk. He left it on the carpet for the time being. Draco walked to Potter and held out both. "All I've got really is my stationary and home quill." He said as Potter took the objects from him. "My homework, and notation parchments, and my school quills usually arrive in a package in the morning tomorrow at breakfast. Mother uses it as an excuse to check in on any gossip from the sorting and the feast, I think." Draco offered in explanation.

He did not think Potter was the sort of person to care if he was being offered a heavily used personal quill rather than a proper one, but it was hard not to try to excuse the oversight in etiquette whether or not the other person knew of it. Draco sighed. And he also, maybe, possibly, wanted Potter to know that he would have offered him one of his better quills if he'd had them ready. The other boy was just so...used to... Well, Draco didn't have words for it really. Potter just seemed used to the shorter end of the stick in whatever situation he was in. Or something.

Feeling a bit self-conscious Draco began pacing and rambling out his thought process while Potter dutifully wrote out a letter to Weasley's father.

"I want you to know," He said. "That in my personal opinion Weasley ought to get into trouble. I rather think he deserves a consequence for recklessness as well as for endangering you. Honestly, I find myself appalled that neither the adults or his elder brothers -of which he has many- knowing him as they should by now, thought to keep an eye on him. Or at least you."

Potter set down the finished letter to the side and placed a new sheet in front of him. This one to his head of house. Potter stopped momentarily to look up at him in that annoying confused way. "Me?"

Draco turned on his heel and paced about the way round of the compartment. "Yes. Of course. You are the firstborn of a proper pureblood family and you were staying with them. That makes your their responsibility, not Weasley's, a twelve-year-old, and one of them ought to have been with you regardless of their own neglect of their youngest son. Not that I blame them he's highly moronic..." At some point, Potter had returned to writing. "...I can't blame you for not wanting to remain stranded amongst the muggles, you see, but hopping into a mad muggle mechanical machine thing, one you've never operated, hardly seems the best course of action in my point of view."

He turned and paced the other way again. All the while Draco kept Potter in view from the corner of his eyes. Taking in his complexion, the state of his clothing and the thinness of his wrists when they made rare appearances from beneath the amount of fabric that was his shirt. He noted the way Potter held up his fingers from time to time just to look at the strawberry stains there. The way he tried to smooth down his hair without Draco seeing him do it.

"Mad muggle mechanical machine." Potter echoed. "Nice alliteration."

"Thank you." Said Draco. "I think you should have found somewhere off to the side, out of the way, and sent an owl off explaining. You could have even waited in the car for the adults to return. Or anything at all less stupid than flying a car." Draco stopped in front of Harry. He watched the other boy send off the letters and waited for him to sit back down. "I also think I ought to tell you that in general, it is always best to never be the last one to see someone alive."

Potter studied him seriously. "What if they try to kill you first? Is that exempt?"

Draco's lips lifted at the corners of their own accord. "Yes actually. But you shouldn't make it a habit."

"Right. I'll be sure to let the next attempted murderer know that it isn't proper for me to-"

"I mean," Draco interrupted. Because it was important Potter understood this. "I mean you shouldn't have been in the situation at all. That's the sort of thing left to adults. Or at least wizards with more experience than you. House points and dramatically winning competitions -unfairly- is all well and good. For you. At the time." Pause. "You might have died Potter. You might have died and you were willing to take Granger and Weasley down with you. Not that I care about them one whit."

Potter frowned. "I didn't want them to die." he protested.

"I can't say that I know entirely what happened. No one seems to know all of it, only the rumours. What I do know is enough to know you hadn't any plan nor a backup plan, nor did anyone know where you were before you left, and all three of you might have died. Should have died." Draco glanced down at his shoes and then up at the carefully listening Gryffindor. "Almost did die. I know you nearly died. You were in the medi-wing the longest. I..saw you."

Draco watched Potter, waiting, hoping for it to sink in. Why h was bothering was a bit of a mystery to himself. Perhaps it was just that the shorter wizard seemed so wretched. Perhaps he was simply off balance from seeing the other boy's panic. Something like that surely. It was inconvenient whatever it was.

"You were eleven, Potter. I can admire, objectively, the ambition and ruthlessness. I can also find it a bit alarming. It is not your job to save anyone nor is it your duty to deal with the consequences if the saving doesn't happen. Your job is to learn magic so that one day, when you're strong enough, you can be the wizard doing the saving so someone like you doesn't have to. It isn't even your fault. The older students and the adults ought to have taken care of it. So..." He trailed off. "So that's what I mean. What I meant. Don't let yourself get wrapped up in needing to prove yourself or to be needed. Needing to be needed is a disease and it gets you nowhere."

Potter didn't say anything. But he was listening. He was listening and that was what was important just then.

"Sometimes you just can't please everyone." A small note of bitterness may have crept into his voice at that point. "No matter how you try. You have to learn to accept what you are in the present and to accept what others will think of it, and then decide for yourself whether or not you like it. Then you must work to improve yourself if you find it necessary to do so. My Grandfather told me that." Draco revealed, quietly. "But only change things about yourself if it is what you want to do, bot because you think the world thinks it needs doing. If you're not...If you're not pleased with yourself...if you're not happy...then what is the point?"

Potter blinked owlishly. "That was deep."

"I apologize. I shall endeavour to be shallow and petty in future discussions." Draco suggested, dryly. He stopped then, at the look on Potter's face. He couldn't read it but whatever it was it made him suddenly uncomfortable. It was just too serious.

Draco spun around dramatically and examined his reflection in the window. "Has my face gotten lines? Mother says if you speak or laugh too much that you will-"

"Aaand he's back." He heard Potter snark behind him.

Draco continued with the drama for a bit longer, entertaining the boy behind him who was once again smiling and carefree.

As it should be.

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2017**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An:** More? Or leave it a two-shot?

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	3. The beginning

*Unintended Consequences*

* * *

 **Unintended Consequences** by **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

 **Summary:** Draco Malfoy was minding his own business in his compartment alone when a Gryffindor decided to fall from the sky and make their second trip to Hogwarts a bit more exciting than planned. Or the one where Harry isn't confident in Ron's capabilities to fly the car and makes a jump for it when they fly over the train, a little traumatized, and blurts out his problems to an unsuspecting Slytherin.

 **Characters:** Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

 **Warnings: Any suggestions? I don't think it warrants them really, but if you think of any let me know and I'll consider them.**

 **AN: I finally have regular access to a computer! Will post rather a lot in the next few days, be on the look out. You haven't forgotten me have you?**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

* * *

 _"The power to be strong and the wisdom to be wise, all these things will come to you in time_

 _This journey that you're making, there'll be answers that you seek..._

 _...and it's you who'll climb the mountain, it's you who'll reach the peak!_

 _Son of man look to the sky, lift your spirits, set it free_

 _Someday you'll walk tall with pride, son of man a man in time you'll be."_

 **-Son of Man**

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If Draco weren't the child of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy, any students unlucky enough to be patrolling the area in the outer corridor would have been subject to the sounds currently muted by a silencing charm.

"What's that for!?" Came a cry.

 **Crash.** "Just stay still Potter!"

Within the compartment Draco stood in the middle of the carpet, posture less than perfect, hair slightly out of place, and -Merlin!- was he sweating? That was it! The blonde took a few deep breaths -That Potter was just so fast! _-_ straightened, and flicked his wand.

 _"Petrificus Totalus!"_

Five feet from him where The-Boy-Who-Lived had been running up, over and along the seating like some sort of billy goat, a short wizard with unruly hair let out a squeak. And then his limbs snapped together and fell face forward onto the cushions. Draco rolled a shoulder. Feeling accomplished he slowly walked toward his distressed classmate. The bright green eyes looked upset enough he very nearly considered reconsidering. But Draco was a Slytherin, for one, and for two he thought Potter might be trying to manipulate him.

Merlin bless him.

He carefully spent the next few minutes transfiguring the awful clothes Potter was wearing into something moderately acceptable. If, while doing so, he took the liberty to fix his hair, spell his eyes, shine his shoes and clean his nails...well...he was simply being thorough. It was here Draco finally faced a conundrum. Potter typically messed up his fringe to cover his forehead. His scar. Should Draco allow him to keep his short uneven fringe to cover it up? He stood there and mused, ignoring the green-eyed wizard glaring up at him. He snapped his fingers. _He had it!_

Draco flicked his wand, growing Potter's hair out a bit longer than before, the fringe as well. Parting it to the side, he allowed the longer fringe to slide over the scar and give Potter the option of letting it sort of cover part of his face if he liked, or tuck it behind his ear. He didn't think Potter was ready to let his scar be on display and, though he would not admit it, he thought Potter was the sort of person who would appreciate the semblance of privacy having a curtain of hair can give a person now and then. Not that he cared.

"You're finished," Draco said blandly.

Another flick and Potter was free. The wizard leapt to his feet and immediately invaded Draco's personal space. Again.

Gryffindors, _honestly._

"What did you do to me?" Potter asked.

Draco held out his own nails to show off their shine in the fading light. "Made improvements of course."

When Potter simply looked like he was seconds from pulling out his own wand and flailing it at Draco to see what happened, the blond huffed. "Come with me." He slipped his fingers about Potter's wrist and towed him along. Momentarily unlocking their compartment he pulled the Gryffindor out into the corridor and along to the end. There he opened the door of another room and brought him inside.

Draco turned and yanked Potter forward, pushing him toward the sink. "Go on, look then."

Potter stared at him for a bit. Finally, he turned his head to inspect himself in the bathroom mirror.

"Oh." Said Potter.

"If you've quite finished being dramatic we ought to gather our things. The train will stop soon and if we're clever, and I know I am, we can get off the train while everyone else is only now changing into their robes and waking up. That means _we'll_ have our choice of carriages up to the castle. That's how you get there every year but first, you know. And if we get their first _we_ can choose where we want to sit at our tables according to where the elves will place the deserts we like best. You'll need to bring out your cloak so I can cast the water repelling charm on it, of course, can't have you looking like something a homeless kneezle dragged in-"

Draco stopped and turned around when he realized Potter had stopped following him.

"Whatever is the matter now?" He asked impatiently.

Potter shifted on his feet and made a few aborted movements. Then, with complete disregard to Draco's personal space AGAIN, Potter launched himself at the blonde. Pale blue eyes blinked several times in confusion. He didn't think he was being attacked. Rather, he was being...embraced.

"Why are you trying to suffocate me? You know I can't charm your cloak if I've died from lack of oxygen."

Potter sprang away from him, looking quite concerned for Draco's wellbeing. Right. None of those sort of jokes around Potter.

"Was I doing it wrong?" The darker haired wizard asked, biting his lip.

Draco opened and closed his mouth. "Are you daft? How does one hug improperly?"

"I don't know. I haven't done it much. Or at all. So I wasn't sure. I mean, Hermione hugs me all the time but, well, she's odd, isn't she? Even without the hugging? And Mrs Weasley does but I think she hugs everyone..." Potter rambled.

And once again they were in a conversation where Draco was making connections he didn't like and feeling quite vexed for it. Something was very, very wrong with Potter he decided. He did not think it was Potter's fault, whatever it was, but something was wrong and no one had done anything about it. Why Draco cared at all he did not know. It was inconvenient really, this caring thing.

That was how he found himself saying, "You hug just fine Potter."

Ridiculous.

They returned to their compartment in silence, gathering their belongings together. Draco waited impatiently for Potter to stow his things in his trunk and then shrunk it. He handed it to an impressed looking Potter which he did not enjoy, thanks. As predicted the train came to a stop and it was only then the other students thought to get things together. Draco darted along the hall, without necessarily running, of course, towing Potter along with him. Walking down the steps Draco confirmed they were indeed the first off the train.

"Let's go." He said.

After a brief glance over the offered carriages he selected the, in his opinion, nicest looking one and started in that direction. Soon enough they were settled inside, with only the slightest of hesitations from Potter - _Really, he got into the metal contraption he can certainly get into a carriage!-_ and the carriage began moving. Potter continued to remain quiet for the first few moments of their journey. Draco thought perhaps really had upset him somehow. Drat. While Draco tried to think of a way to find out what he'd done without asking, the other wizard simply opened his mouth and answered the question before Draco could ask.

"What are those things pulling the carriages?"

 _Oh._

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2017**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An:** As you wish. It'll be a full story. Can't say how long though.

ANx2: Additionally, I'm using a wireless keyboard which has several keys that stick (including the space bar), thus I will most likely have several issues with missing letters or incorrect spacing. I apologize in advance, and will endeavour to correct these mistakes as I find them.

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	4. Observations and Deductions

*Unintended Consequences*

* * *

 **Unintended Consequences** by **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

"...since we found out that anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could..."

* * *

 **Summary:** Draco Malfoy was minding his own business in his compartment alone when a Gryffindor decided to fall from the sky and make their second trip to Hogwarts a bit more exciting than planned. Or the one where Harry isn't confident in Ron's capabilities to fly the car and makes a jump for it when they fly over the train, a little traumatized, and blurts out his problems to an unsuspecting Slytherin.

 **Characters:** Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

 **Warnings:** Any suggestions? I don't think it warrants them really, but if you think of any let me know and I'll consider them.

 **AN: A very short chapter. The next out soon.**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

* * *

 _"You see the scars from where you fell, but I see the stories they will tell..."_

 **-Mended**

* * *

Draco watched, and listened to, the wizard sat beside him in an odd detached sort of way.

He watched Potter pull the sleeves of his school shirt over his unnaturally pale fingertips or twist the hem when he was uncomfortable. He watched his eyes slide to the side when he didn't want to see Draco's expression to whatever he had to say next. He listened as the boy's voice showed very little inflection as he recounted -more accurately recited- an unlikely tale of life-sized chess, poisons and _Dark Lords_. He may not have said anything, but Draco watched and he listened.

And he would remember.

The blonde, sitting with proper posture and certainly not fidgeting, reflected it was interesting how much you could learn about someone, simply by giving them an answer to a question. He hadn't been exactly sure how to answer, of course. He'd wondered whose death exactly the Gryffindor had seen. Was he in the room when his parents died? Could he remember that far back? Had someone else perished about him at some point? Why didn't he know about the theastrals, to begin with? As the last of his line and an orphaned child, you would think he'd have wanted to know as much about the school his parents, and all his Potter ancestors, had attended.

Draco folded his arms in one of the moments where Potter had his eyes averted. No need for the boy to think Draco's disapproval was for him. It was for several _other_ people. Why didn't The Boy Who Lived know basic wizarding etiquette? Why hadn't anyone prepared him for the sight of the theastrals? Pale blue eyes flickered to small wrists, hollow cheeks, pale skin. To the obviously secondhand yet well taken care of shoes.

Vexing.

"...and I don't know I just...I just felt fire. As if I were burning from the inside out. But it didn't burn me it burnt him! He started falling to ash..." Potter trailed off. Bright green eyes pulled themselves toward Draco. "He was gone."

Draco tilted his head. "I see."

"That's it?" Potter flailed his hands about, his voice losing its odd monotone quality. "I admit to murder and that's _all_ you can say?"

The Slytherin's lips pulled upward. With only a finger pressed once to his lips to signify Draco's silence, the blonde stood and exited the now stopped carriage. Potter trailed behind him. Draco turned to glance behind them. They would be the only ones there for a bit, apart from any that lived in Hogsmeade or whose parents were teachers or chose to apparate to Hogsmeade and then walk them to the school. Most of them, of course, chose to ride the train. Tradition and all that.

As they started toward the front steps they saw a small group of witches and wizards off to the right. Draco recognized the red robes of two of them as Aurors. A tall pointed hat turns their direction and a Scottish accent rings out.

"Potter!" McGonagall called. "A moment potter." The thin witch broke from the group and approached the two young wizards. "I would like to thank you for warning me what had become of mister Weasley. When his brothers were unable to locate him Prefect Weasley sent along a message as well, asking after him. The situation is resolving its self now. Thank you for thinking ahead, well done." She stopped, with a sharp nod.

"In you go, boys." She ordered, turning on her polished heel and heading back to the other adults.

Draco and Potter exchanged a glance and a shrug, on Potter's part.

With that, they entered the hall. Potter followed him to the Slytherin table and sat beside him as if it was something he'd always done. It was a pity none of the other serpents were there. He'd have loved seeing them struggle to control their facial expressions. Alas. Draco slid a cup with tea at Potter -someone needed to make certain he ate- and began bringing out some parchment and a quill. After all, he'd learned a lot in less than a day and he had some questions of his own.

Ones he was determined to receive answers to. One way or the other.

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2017**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An:** Who do you think he is writing to?

 **ANx2:** Additionally, I'm using a wireless keyboard which has several keys that stick (including the space bar), thus I will most likely have several issues with missing letters or incorrect spacing. I apologize in advance, and will endeavour to correct these mistakes as I find them.

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	5. The first Change

*Unintended Consequences*

* * *

 **Unintended Consequences** by **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

"...since we found out that anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could..."

* * *

 **Summary:** Draco Malfoy was minding his own business in his compartment alone when a Gryffindor decided to fall from the sky and make their second trip to Hogwarts a bit more exciting than planned. Or the one where Harry isn't confident in Ron's capabilities to fly the car and makes a jump for it when they fly over the train, a little traumatized, and blurts out his problems to an unsuspecting Slytherin.

 **Characters:** Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

 **Warnings:** Any suggestions? I don't think it warrants them really, but if you think of any let me know and I'll consider them.

 **AN: Part 1 of 2. Enjoy, and pay attention. ;)**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

* * *

 _"Wait. It's just about to break, it's more than I can take_

 _Everything's about to change._

 _I feel it in my veins! It's not going away!_

 _Everything's about to change..."_

 **-War of Change**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: part 1.**

* * *

Draco Malfoy, who'd been minding his own business by the way, was nearly killed during broom flight. It was entirely Potter's fault.

The day started out alright as far as Thursdays went. Or as far Thursdays were capable when one lived in a school full of magical underage children. Paper airplanes floated through the air. Flashes of blue and yellow were often seen out of the corners of one's eyes while walking through the hall. Someone may have charmed a friend's hair to stand on end, or transfigured their bootlaces into tiny flobberworms. Useful, actually, if the recipient of the prank liked potions. Or a hungry owl. The younger students, especially the first years, bounced around with energy. The older students ran to and from their dorms several times, certain they'd forgotten a book or an essay or something else important. Those were the OWL, NEWT, and apprentice students usually. Understandably. They had responsibilities beyond showing up to class with their robes on straight and a quill.

The slight exception to this rule came in the forms of Slytherin House, and Gryffindor. On opposite ends of the spectrum. While, for the most part, they fell into the same sort of routine, a major difference was as follows. Slytherins tended to show up to meals with their year group, in a respectable configuration if not a queue (they weren't Ravenclaws, no need for that) and also tended to be more restrained at the table. The Lions? Well, Draco supposed they all managed to eat somehow. Generally, you saw most of them right at the end of meals, especially breakfast. Usually running in to stuff some food in a napkin and drag their still half asleep mates to class, while trying to button their shirts and fix their ties as they ran. Gryffindors.

On this, the first Thursday of the new school year, it seemed like any other. Draco sat amongst his yearmates and the third years near the middle of the table. He ate a reasonable breakfast at a reasonable speed. To either side of Draco sat the oafs Crabbe and Goyle. He had been unsuccessful in avoiding them this morning. To appease his appetite he did his best to refrain from looking to the side. Merlin forbid anyone attempt to engage him in table conversation. He Draco did not care what happened over the summer. He did not care what their plans for the winter holidays were. No, he did not want an invitation to this or that event their parents were holding.

He wanted to be left alone.

So Draco rolled his robe sleeves up so they wouldn't drag in his food and he took slow sips from his water goblets, and instead focused on something far more interesting than his tablemates. Across from him on the Gryffindor side of the room, Potter dutifully nibbled at toast. There also seemed to be a bit of juice in his goblet. Not the best meal, but he was eating. Draco was pleased to note Potter hadn't immediately tried to undo the spells on his hair, letting it lie mostly flat if fluffy. It was much better this way, he didn't look quite like such a raggamuffin.

Murmurings. Draco tilted his head, pale eyes flickering around. Ah, there.

Weasley sat not far from Potter with a greenish tinge to his face. A red howler was making its way toward him. The second-year rose to his feet, perhaps thinking to at least have it in the hallway rather than in front of everyone. His elder brothers, either on their parent's orders or out of the desire to see him embarrassed, were at their feet a moment after, holding him in place.

Mrs Weasley's voice soon reverberated from every crevice of the Great Hall. It didn't take a genius to gather Weasley was in a lot of trouble for his little stunt with the flying car. The whole school knew about it of course. Several of the children attending had parents who were Aurors. Some of them might even have been the ones there that night. They all heard of the Aurors being gathered to search for the wayward boy flying through the sky in a muggle machine. How muggles had spotted it, how they'd even had it in their newspapers. Pictures! They had pictures. Draco himself had heard from his father that Mr Weasley was not only facing an inquiry about the possession and usage of the enchanted muggle artefact but was also standing in place for his son, his responsibility as head of the house, to face the legal charges his son as an underage wizard was not applicable to.

Draco's lips pulled upward. Though he was certain Weasley would be forced to do some sort of service to make up for his actions. In addition to whatever punishment his mother likely had in store. ...He also crashed his enchanted car along the shore of the lake and it promptly went rogue in the forest, causing school officials to restrict access to the lake, its beach, and the field beside the forest for an unknown amount of time.

Needless to say, Weasley wasn't very popular at the moment. Not with the other students nor his own siblings. Pity.

After breakfast, the day went on as days often did. Classes for the younger students were mostly theory at the beginning of the year and for those like Draco who'd already read the school books and had had tutors as a small child, it was redundant for the most part. Herbology was half interesting for once. That was something. Potter didn't eat at lunch. Draco wondered, from the distance between them, if he'd had a row with Weasley. He frowned. Potter should eat regardless.

Draco was enjoying a break before his next class when something interesting happened again. Why did interesting things always revolve around Potter?

"-just left me! If that's not enough you had to run around blabbing your mouth and now everybody knows. My dad's in trouble you know and I have to go to some stupid hearing in a few weeks."

Draco slowed his steps, turning his head to peer across the courtyard. There Potter sat on a bench playing with a blade of grass between his fingers, pointedly looking at neither Weasley, who stood in front of him making big gestures, nor Granger who sat to his left with her face in a book.

"I had to tell." Said Potter, finally. "What if you'd died?"

Weasley's face went even more red if possible. "You could have stayed and helped me. There was a time I could have bailed on you too you know, and I didn't." Apparently, that was a poor choice of words. Potter's head shot up, eyes narrowed in a way Draco hadn't seen before.

"Which time do you mean Ron. Specifically."

To his credit Weasley seemed to know he'd crossed some sort of line. "Last year. I didn't have to go with you. I didn't have to help."

Potter's shoulders relaxed minutely. 'I asked you not to go if you'll recall. And you shouldn't have." Potter paused. "Also, I remember you being the one to get me into trouble more than once. Does a duel ring any bells? I didn't even know any magic."

The redhead rolled his eyes. "It was just Malfoy. He wouldn't do more than shoot sparks out of fear of mussing his robes. Doesn't know much more than that either."

Large green eyes blinked incredulously. "I doubt that. Draco knows a lot of spells. He's pretty good at them too."

Before that line of conversation could continue a first year with corn-yellow hair and a very big camera skidded to a halt beside the bench. His eyes were wide with excitement and he swallowed several times before managing to speak. "Harry Potter. Remember me? We met last night. And this morning. This is the camera I was talking about. And one of the older years said I get special ink and get the pictures to move. Do you, do you think I could have a picture? Would you mind?"

While Potter was trying to catch up with the speed of the boy's words Weasley stomped off. The raven haired Gryffindor looked like a kneazel caught in wandlight.

Amused, Draco headed that direction. He slowed just before the seen, small smile widening across his face. "What's this? Signing autographs? I hope you're charging for them at least." He tsk'd, pretending to be disappointed.

Potter's face flushed. "N-no." He denied, waving his hands. "I just...I mean it just sort of happened." Potter stammered.

"Hmm, here I was thinking you didn't like attention."

Potter stood to his feet, eyes wide. "I don't! I mean this, he just, I was only just sitting there and then he-"

 **Flash!** The little blonde firstie had taken a picture.

Draco glanced toward the enthusiastic first year, grinning. "Ooh, I'd like a copy of that one."

"Oh not you don't!" Said Potter, crossing his arms. Draco spent the next few minutes teasing Potter while Granger read her book obliviously -who needed to know the complete history of animated drawing inks on a Thursday afternoon?- and the unnamed first year snapped pictures. And if he slipped some sandwiches into Potter's robe pockets that he packed at lunch specifically for this purpose, well, sue him. The kid needed to eat.

Then Lockhart showed up.

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2017**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limmericks always welcomed

 **An: This is a two part chapter. This half and then the other half is next.**

 **ANx2:** The title and theme of these two chapters has to do with changes. Can you spot all the changes coming into play? How things are derailing from canon? Any guesses how this will affect the story?

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	6. The second Change

*Unintended Consequences*

* * *

 **Unintended Consequences** by **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

"...since we found out that anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could..."

* * *

 **Summary:** Draco Malfoy was minding his own business in his compartment alone when a Gryffindor decided to fall from the sky and make their second trip to Hogwarts a bit more exciting than planned. Or the one where Harry isn't confident in Ron's capabilities to fly the car and makes a jump for it when they fly over the train, a little traumatized, and blurts out his problems to an unsuspecting Slytherin.

 **Characters:** Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

 **Warnings:** Any suggestions? I don't think it warrants them really, but if you think of any let me know and I'll consider them.

 **AN: Part 2 of 2. Enjoy, and pay attention. ;)**

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

* * *

 _"This is it the apocalypse -_ _Whoa_

 _I'm waking up!_

 _I feel it in my bones e_ _nough to make my system blow_

 _Welcome to the new age, to the new age!"_

 **-Radioactive**

* * *

 **Chapter 5: part 2.**

* * *

Draco hadn't yet decided what to make of Lockhart. What sort of man he might be. He knew only what he'd observed.

That he was right between tall and average, with hair between blonde and brown. He wore a glittering smile that looked as if he'd practiced in the mirror until he'd gotten it just right. The wizard sort of posed as he spoke and even the gestures he made were intended to be showy or attractive. He cared very much what other people thought of him, Draco decided. You would think someone with a record of deeds such as the ones held by Lockhart would be a bit more...confident.

The wizard strutted forward, managing to draw attention to himself before even speaking.

"What's this? What's this?" His shiny blue eyes landed on the camera in the firstie's hands.

Draco was certain he heard Potter stifle a groan.

During the following rather onside conversation slash speech Granger woke up from her book haze and stood nearby appearing starstruck at being so close to Lockhart. Draco huffed. Honestly, she liked to think she was so intelligent and clever yet here she was thoroughly distracted by something shiny. Of course, Draco himself used that very thing against people when it suited him, as his mother had taught him to do. It wasn't _his_ fault people were inherently shallow.

More interesting, by far, was Potter once again. The way the young wizard stood somewhere between hunching his shoulders down submissively and throwing them back defiantly. The way his eyes flickered to the side beneath his fringe every so often to catch Lockhart's movements, and the way his knees were slightly bent and his weight more on the back one. As if prepared to flee. Draco did not think it was Lockhart who developed such reactions into Potter. So where had he learned them?

Vexing. Always vexing.

Eventually, they managed to remind the professor that he himself would be late for class if they didn't get moving.

The class itself was apparently destined to only be more of the same. After waiting for ages for the an to make an appearance, he came to the down the steps from his office grandly. One hand on the railing, the other gesturing about as he descended slowly. He spoke of himself, of course, introducing himself to the class with a list of his achievements while admiring himself in any reflective surface he went by...and greeting _himself_ in the very various portraits hung of himself hung about the room. This was taking vanity to an unhealthy level.

Thus Draco sat through a 'pop quiz' about the man's favourite subject. Himself. Rolling his quill between his fingers Draco pondered if their new defense instructor was aware how dangerous handing over the truth of one's greatest desires, dreams and ambitions really was. You could do a lot knowing only that about a person. Enough to know what motivates them. Enough to guess the choices they'll make in certain situations. How to get them to see things your way. Not at all wise.

It was then Lockhart descended into a very dramatic speech about facing dangers in the classroom that was nearly promising. Until he lifted blanket and revealed a cage of very unhappy Cornish Pixies.

Draco frowned. There was a lot of them stuffed into that thing. How on earth did he manage it? And what did he expect them to do-

"...let's see what you make of them!" Draco's pale eyes widened. He wouldn't.

Turns out he would.

Instincts kicking in Draco dropped to the floor and slid under his table, the other Slytherin's following suit. This was ridiculous. He turned, intending to see what their great and powerful professor was doing about the chaos and...groaned. Potter stood on his feet gallantly battling pixies with a large book that probably belonged to Granger. It wasn't doing a whole lot of damage, nor would it.

"Potter get _down_ ," Draco ordered.

Green eyes turned to him. "I can't, they're in her hair." He pointed to Granger's mane of tangles and curls, currently being pulled and twisted by the pixies.

Draco huffed. "They wouldn't be if she got under a table!"

Potter considered this a moment. He grabbed the witch by robes, just as she was about to cast whatever spell had come to her mind, and pulled her down to the floor with him. And that is where the entire class soon found themselves. Huddled under their desks, listening to the pixies wreak havoc around them. It was entertaining for a bit, Draco admitted, but he was getting bored now. He twisted a bit to get into a more comfortable position, aiming his wand at the nearest window.

 _"Flipendo."_

The glass shattered. In moments the lot of the pixies had flown out of it into the sky with what could only be described as squeals of unholy delight.

"What were you thinking?" Granger scolded. Draco turned his head to her lazily, raising a bored brow. "Now they'll be out about the grounds making a mess and he'll be in so much trouble."

"Really?" Draco asked with faux innocence. "Do you think?"

Potter, and several other boys snickered. Though Potter covered his smile and averted his eyes when Granger turned her glare on him. Lockhart made a brief reemergence from wherever he'd hidden away, apparently having realized the very thing Granger stated. He disappeared through the classroom door to damage control leaving the students. Draco waited a full ten minutes before deciding Lockhart wouldn't be coming back. His brief amusement in the situation having long since faded, Draco pushed out from beneath his table and rose to his feet.

Draco brushed off his robes and surveyed the classroom. He blinked. What a mess. Draco shrugged and turned about, cloak swirling. "Class dismissed!" He called. The Slytherin promptly began walking toward the door.

"W-what?" He heard from behind him. "You can't just leave! The classroom needs to be cleaned up."

"Not my problem," Draco called over his shoulder. He pushed open the door.

There was a stomp somewhere he highly suspected belonged to Granger. "But we haven't got permission to leave."

"Noted." He let the door slam on whatever her next argument may have been. Gryffindors. Honestly. For a House that was so well known for outrageous parties, you'd think they'd know how to have a little fun.

Draco a set a brisk pace through the halls. Around him, other students parted like a sea, either because of the green trimmings on his robes or for his parents or simply for his rank as a pureblood. Whatever the reason it gave him the ability to focus on other things while he made his way to the Slytherin dorms. Like secret meetings about vexing wizards with large green eyes. Deep in his thoughts, Draco spoke the password automatically and entered the common room as the wall slid open. There weren't many in the dorms he knew from the lack of sound. Off enjoying the end of the day or in the library no doubt. No matter to him of course.

Draco opened the locker with his name on it at the far end of the hallway, bringing out what lay within. Finally. He spun around. Draco Malfoy sped through the halls and darted down moving staircases as quickly as he dared. He couldn't be late. He had a mission. After all, he was a second year now. And today was Quidditch tryouts. He made it to the field and immediately came to a halt. Draco stood, with his arms out, and glanced around.

Oh, thank Merlin _nobody_ was here to see that.

He straightened and smoothed his hair and looked positively unruffled when the others arrived.

The lined up and one by one the positions were called. New flyers competing against the flyers from the year before, who of course defended their positions. Unlike the others houses, on the Slytherin team you were never guaranteed a position simply because you were already on the team. It was the best of the lot each year that was chosen to wear Green and Silver. Draco's pale blue eyes narrowed. This year, he was going to be one of them. Draco stood and he waited for Seekers to be called. He watched the Chasers, and the Beaters, and the Keepers go one by one. He watched them do drills and race about the field. He watched as, slowly, finally, the other positions of the team were filled. Then it was time.

Draco swung a leg over his broom and kicked off into the air. His focus narrowed to exclude everything but this moment, everything but winning his place on the team. The one thing he'd wanted since his first real broom when he was five. Seeker on the Slytherin Quidditch team.

His eyes carefully tracked the position of the other flyers in the air, his mind registering and changing altitude and speed according to distance from the ground. Draco made the loops and the sharp turns and the quick stops. When they were made to race each other about the track not even the sting of the wind against his cheeks or the water in his eyes kept him from reaching the end first. The remaining flyers, him and two other older years, were hardly given a moment to catch their breaths before a bag of three snitches released into the air.

Draco's boots smacked the ground and he shot high into the air. Nothing existed, nothing mattered but catching those shining golden orbs. He watched for shadows and reflections and paid close attention to the slight tinkling sound the snitches made in the air. Just as he was about to catch his first snitch something disrupted his focus. His name, barely heard through the wind. Dark hair swishing in the breeze. A small wizard, who could only be one person, stood on the railing high in the stands waving their arms and cheering, tilted precariously over the field.

Pale eyes widened and his broom swerved, only just avoiding running into the pole in front of him. Muscle memory came in surprisingly handy in the next few minutes. Draco set himself on autopilot. Turn, flip up, dive down - _SNITCH_ \- double back, up and over - _SNITCH_ \- up, up, too far, stop and drop, tilt broom, hold on tight, reach, flip - _SNITCH -_ Draco flipped right side up inches from Potter. Carefully, slowly, Draco reached out and gently pushed Potter back until he stood upright on the balcony.

"You were brilliant!" Said Potter, as if he hadn't been stretched out two hundred feet in the air to cheer on his future opponent.

"Of course I was." Said Draco, as if his heart wasn't beating out of his chest.

Gryffindors. Honestly.

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2017**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limericks always welcomed

 **An: That is the end of the two-parter.**

 **ANx2:** Did you find all the changes? They may seem small, but as any time traveler will tell you: even the smallest change can alter the course of history...

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


	7. A little insight

*Unintended Consequences*

* * *

 **Unintended Consequences** by **Pseudonymous Entity**

* * *

 _"...since we found out that anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could happen, anything could..."_

* * *

 **Summary:** Draco Malfoy was minding his own business in his compartment alone when a Gryffindor decided to fall from the sky and make their second trip to Hogwarts a bit more exciting than planned. Or the one where Harry isn't confident in Ron's capabilities to fly the car and makes a jump for it when they fly over the train, a little traumatized, and blurts out his problems to an unsuspecting Slytherin.

 **Characters:** Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter

 **Warnings:** Any suggestions? I don't think it warrants them really, but if you think of any let me know and I'll consider them.

 **AN:** Hi lads. Welcome. Or, if this is your first reading...welcome in general? Also 'hi'.

 **Ever Yours, Pseu [The clever, magnificent and ridiculously good looking]**

* * *

 _"All I ever wanted was to reach out_

 _And touch another human being_

 _Not just with my hands but with my heart."_

 **-Tahereh Mafi**

* * *

Draco spoke the password and waited for the entrance to the Slytherin common room to slide aside and let him out.

There was enough time before curfew to go out for a walk. Which is where he would be _now_ if it weren't for the unfortunate combination of Crabbe and Goyle. Draco had been forced to walk all the way down to the common room after dinner. The large pair weren't known for missing meals and Draco hadn't been able to avoid sitting beside them at dinner. Or rather, he hadn't found two people willing to risk the threat of pummeling if they didn't move from either side of him so the two could sit down.

They entered the common room and Draco walked as quickly as etiquette allowed down the stairs and straight to his dorm. He grabbed the first book he saw from the neat pile on his side table and made his way back to the common room, settling down in one of the couches. The common room was a menagerie of all seven years bragging on about their summer adventures. The novelty of new gossip had not, apparently, warn off just yet. He hoped desperately that this would not become a habit after every vacation.

He may have to intervene if so.

While everyone else did whatever it was gossiping _twats_ did, Draco took advantage of the invisible bubble which seemed to follow wherever he went. Between three and ten feet of space depending on the circumstance where the other students dared not tread. If he wasn't so used to himself for company he might have felt offended. As it was, belonging to two notorious houses and an infamous father to boot was more than enough to fend off the sycophants and would-be bullies.

It did little to dissuade Crabbe and Goyle from tailing him most everywhere. It wasn't _his_ fault his father and their fathers came up with the arrangement. If he were more whimsical he'd allow himself to daydream of an alternate timeline where he attended Durmstrang instead of Hogwarts and had actual personal space afforded him as a human being, and no babysitters.

The recent threat against his life didn't help matters any. Father was upset with mother because mother insisted on Hogwarts. And, being the son of the family the belonged to, came with risks. Those who didn't believe his father's story of imperious in the last war. Those who thought they were traitors. There was no happy medium. And the easiest way to get to his father? Threaten his only heir.

 _Yippee._

After an hour Draco closed his book and made the trek down the stairs to the long corridor at the bottom. To the right were the boys' rooms. He found his dormitory down the second year hall and cautiously cracked open the door. As expected both boys were enjoying their after dinner food coma. Draco tiptoed across the carpet to his side table, replaced the book, grabbed his shoes and made his way back to the common room.

Finally, time to himself.

He slipped on his shoes and made his way to the wall that served as the secret entrance to the Slytherin common room. The wall slide aside he stepped out.

He took two steps into the cool corridor and then stopped and stared. To the right across from him stood POtter of all people. The Gryffindor stood there in an oversized jumper and dirty trainers, staring at a crack in the stone on the floo like it was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. Draco immediately zeroed in on the focused expression on the other boy's face and the stiffness of his posture. How his shoulders hunched in a bit and he was chewing fiercely on his bottom lip. Draco narrowed his pale eyes, sliding them to the two third years standing near to the boy.

From the looks on their faces, they were the most likely cause of Potter's discomfort.

Vexing.

"Potter," Draco called, looking for all the world as if he was expecting a lost lion to show up on Slytherin's doorstep.

Potter's head shot up. "Draco? Oh, I was, I was just wondering...because I saw your practice you know?"

While Potter rambled on, as Draco was coming to find was a _thing_ with the Gryffindor, Draco walked up to him. He then turned to look directly at the third years who had stopped talking. He continued to stare them down while Potter rattled on in the background until the third years backed away and disappeared into the common room.

There was no good reason for either of them to harass a student who was visiting one of their Slytherin classmates. It wasn't unheard of, if rare for a Gryffindor, and picking on a younger kid was frowned upon by all four of the houses. Most especially when Draco was willing to bet Potter had done nothing to warrant the treatment.

He turned his head back to said Gryffindor and looked him over. He appeared otherwise in good condition. Draco put a hand to Potter's back and pushed him forward to get him moving. It seemed Draco would have company tonight.

Anything was better than Crabbe and Goyle...even if it was Potter.

They made their way to the end of the corridor and began up the steps leading to the first floor. Draco reached into his pocket and held out something wrapped in a napkin. Potter paused in his rambling to stare at it like it would bite him.

Draco rolled his eyes. He drank potions from Draco without a second thought but this he had an issue with. Riddiculous. "Go on. It isn't poisoned."

Potter took it carefully and unwrapped a bit. "Treacle Tart." Said Potter.

Draco thought that was obvious so he didn't confirm the treats identity. Instead, he answered some of the questions the boy had spewed at him. "I did make the team. Seeker. Thank you for asking. And no I won't need to utilize a school broom. Father sent along a package. I received it at dinner. I hardly need to unwrap it to deduce that it's a new broom. The 2001 I would presume."

As they reached the main floor and headed toward the main staircase, Draco glanced at Potter out of his peripheral vision. He was taking his usual route and Potter didn't seem to mind. Just an enclave on the second floor under the clocktower Draco favoured. No one else seemed to populate that area so it was ideal to Draco's needs.

"You don't like it?" He inquired. The other boy had stopped a couple of bites into what Draco knew was his favourite dessert. He brows were drawn together and he was frowning.

Potter flushed and looked at Draco. "That's not it. I like! It's only..." And then a curiously devious expression flickered across his face. He looked down at the desert and then up to Draco, took a breath and then said, "I missed dinner."

Draco turned his eyes forward. "Oh?"

That was hardly worth stopping to talk about. If anything it was all the more reason the boy should be eating his food instead of staring at it.

"Did you notice?" Potter asked, with the same odd expression on his face.

Draco nearly missed a step. Nearly. He scoffed. "As If I pay any attention to whether or not you've decided to starve yourself in a fit of dramatic angst. Honestly Potter, your ego is enormous."

Rather than getting offended Potter began eating the tart once more, a very large beaming smile across his face that Draco pointedly ignored. What a ridiculous notion. It wasn't Draco's fault the other boy was quite thin, his clothes drowning him. Really, it was much more interesting to ponder whether anyone else cared if the boy died of hunger. He can't have been the only one to notice.

Not that he was noticing anything. Not really. But if the boy was going to insist on following him around Draco could at least ensure he didn't drop dead in his presence. It was a simple matter of looking out for one's own interest. That he happened to have a slice of Potter's favourite desert in his pocket was mere coincidence. A happy accident.

Obviously.

"Hang on." Said Draco, slowly. "How long were you standing there? You never sent anyone to fetch me. We're you just planning on _standing there_ until I decided to come out? What if I didn't come out tonight?"

Potter quickly took another bite and shrugged his shoulders.

Idiot.

* * *

 **PseudonymousEntity**

 **2019**

* * *

 **Notes:** Thoughts, Theories, Questions, Comments and Limericks always welcomed

 **An:** I have several more chapters lined up if you lot are still interested.

 **Ever Yours, Pseu**


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